A 100 different things
by everythingbooksandmusic
Summary: Hundred drabbles of Harry Potter. Enjoy! )
1. Unorthodox

After tossing and turning for a few minutes, Albus finally woke up. The room was bathed in the grey morning light. It took him a few minutes to recognize his surroundings. It was the Malfoy manor and he was in Scorpius' room, sleeping on Scorpius' bed. Scorpius, he was gone. That was why it had felt so cold. Albus groaned. Of course, Scorp would be gone. He was an early bird, even when it was the vacation. And Albus knew exactly where he was.

Albus pulled a dark blue shirt over his head hastily and jumped down from the bed. The floor was numbingly cold, but he didn't care. He ran out of the room to the corridor and slid down the railing of the staircase. The Malfoy Manor had come to being his second home away from Hogwarts. In fact, he spent most of his vacation here than at his own home or at the Burrow. Albus tiptoed the rest of the way and came to a halt before the slightly open door of the library. He stepped in stealthily, not wanting to disturb the person in there.

The library of the Malfoys was large and circular. Books were neatly shelved all around the room with a large antique table in the middle. Ladders were propped against some of the shelves according to one of Scorp's notions. It contained every book from The Fantastic Beasts to the Most Horrifying Dark Arts books. No wonder it was Scorp's favourite place.

Scorpius was standing in front of a shelf at the back of the library. He was looking at a dusty book with his back to Albus. So Albus had no problem in creeping up to Scorpius and hugging his waist form behind. With his hands firmly clasped around Scorpius' waist, Albus whispered into the other boy's silky white blond hair.

"Morning handsome"

"Merlin's beard Al, you scared me to death!", Scorp exclaimed accusingly.

"Oh well, I've been told that I have that effect on people", Albus murmured and felt Scorp's body trembling with a silent laugh.

Albus placed a soft kiss on Scorpius' neck and heard the other boy sigh in response. Albus turned Scorpius around so that their noses were touching. He kissed the eyelids of Scorpius and moved down to his cheek. Placing a gentle kiss on his right cheek, Albus finally brought his lips in level with Scorpius'. Albus could feel the blood thrumming under his fingers where his hand laid on Scorpius' perfectly curved throat. Every possible inch of Scorpius' body was pressed close to Albus, his hand clutching the fabric of Albus' shirt.

"I love you Scorp", Albus muttered against his lips and pressed his own to them. The hand on Albus' shirt twisted and pulled him even closer, their lips dancing to a rhythm of their own. Everywhere Albus touched of Scorpius was feverishly hot. Scorpius' fingers wove through Al's dark, messy locks. Albus' hands roamed freely under Scorpius' shirt, discovering every curve and edge that marked him. Their tongues chased each other across their mouths, deepening the kiss. Albus' hands tightened their grip on Scorpius. Books were falling all round them as Scorpius leaned on the bookshelf for support. Clinging to Albus' hair, he bit Albus' lower lip to hear him gasp and finally break the kiss. Both panting slightly, stood touching forehead to forehead. As Scorpius leaned in for another kiss with his hands around Albus' neck, they heard someone clearing their throat.

Albus whipped around to see a tall, lean figure standing at the doorway with his arms crossed. Albus had forgotten who else was an early bird; it was Lucius Malfoy. Scorpius' highly orthodox grandfather, with his face contorted into an angry mask. It had started off to being a perfect day, Albus was not so sure of it now.


	2. The Ring

The wind soared above the hills and the moon bathed the ground in her silvery rays. A dark shape was visible in the sky, getting clearer by the minute. It was only now, that the shape flying above the Forbidden Forest could be identified clearly as that of a hippogriff. But the odd shape huddled on the hippogriff however, was indistinct. The bird cut through the air, its wings beating gracefully. At once, it plunged straight down making a careful landing on the ground next to the Whomping Willow. A teenage boy jumped down from the back of the hippogriff and made a deep bow to it, showing his gratitude. The bird returned the bow and retreated back to the forest. The boy walked towards the castle, his elegant features illuminated by the moonlight. He glanced down at his hand, his long fingers adorned by a ring. A triumphant smile crossed his face as a vicious red glow passed through his eyes.


	3. Comatose

The visitor always came early, at the same time, every day. Even then the St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was crowded. It wasn't as if there was a registered time for people to fall ill, was there? The visitor walked in, nodding a good morning to people he has grown accustomed to within the past year. All of them knew his purpose, but none dared to question him. After all, no matter how much of a celebrity he was, his private matters were none of their business. This morning too, he walked through the familiar corridors, into the same old room. It was nothing special, but to him it was a different story.

The short reign of Voldemort was long gone, yet the impact it left on the Wizarding World was still fresh. The dead were mourned and their deeds were remembered. The heroes were celebrated but some were just forgotten. Forgotten and locked up in dark, damp cells. Forgotten to waste away in brightly coloured and oddly cheerful hospital rooms. But the visitor made sure that the occupant of this particular room was not to be forgotten. At least for his own sake.

As he entered the room, he felt the pang of hope he felt every day. A hope that kept rising as he neared the bed which was occupied by a platinum haired boy but withered as soon as he saw the blank stare on the boy's face. This day was not different. With a sigh, the visitor drew up a chair towards the bed and sat down, his emerald green eyes, filled with expectations, resting on the other boy's face.

Their world never used to be like this. He never used to be so lost before. Nor did the boy lying on the bed. Both were young and had important roles to play. He was the Boy who Lived, the Chosen One. The other was the proud Slytherin Prince. Both were significant for the war both their sides were trying to win. Most of their lives had been spent hating each other, since the day they had met. But somewhere along the way, they had fallen in love only to be hidden away from the rest of the world. It was a love that had only felt right with each passing moment. But all those breathless minutes spent in deserted corridors and empty classrooms had their falling out too. There were times when their differences became too much, times when both of them were riding on thin ice. As their fifth year progressed, things had started hurtling straight down and they were back to being old rivals in their sixth year, this time with a much deeper hatred than before. Both were trying to forget all that happened, trying to dismiss whatever feelings they had previously felt. Then the war had begun and none of them had time to consider emotions. But as the war ended, there were no more excuses to be given. With the fall of Voldemort, the Imperius curse laid on Draco had lifted. His father was sentenced to Azkaban and his mother had died of sheer grief. Draco's mind had been tortured after being under the curse for so long and now only a blank stare remained on his face, where a perfect smirk used to be. His youthful life was wasted away on a bed.

Harry wasn't exactly sure of what he wanted. Yet it was impossible to leave Draco without a soul in the world to care for him. No matter how much he told himself, his feelings had for Draco had never faded away. He wasn't sure of what Draco wanted either. It was easier this way somehow, when Draco was comatose. Disturbing as it was, Harry found it to be comforting in a way. Particularly because he didn't know what would happen if, no _when,_ Draco woke up. He had no idea if he would still remember what they used to be, much less even remember who Harry was. Harry wanted to cling on to every straw of hope but they were slipping away each moment Draco spent without talking, moving, smiling andeven, _oh merlin_ , blinking.

Lost in the past and dreams of future, Harry did not notice the slight movement of the other boy's head as he turned to look at Harry. He was pulled back to the earth by a hoarse whisper emanating from Draco's lips.

"Harry"

It was a year, two months and sixteen days since Draco had last spoken. For Harry it was an eternity. This whisper was not much. But it was enough. Harry's eyes met the ghost of a smile stretching itself on Draco's lips and felt himself smiling too, for it was simply more than enough, after an eternity.


	4. Choices

A/N- This is written for the Can You Make It To The End Challenge Round 1

Petunia always woke up early and this day was not different. She had slept badly the night before, all thanks to some very disturbing sounds. Her mood was not improved by finding a little basket left on the front step of their house as she went out to get the morning newspaper.

She bent down to pick the basket up and realized quickly, that it was not something to be thrown away as she had hoped it would be. In fact, it was nothing she could neglect. It was her sister's baby boy, Harry Potter.

Without even thinking twice, she placed the basket gently on the dining table and cradled the baby in her arms. He was fast asleep, his face peaceful. He looked nothing like his cousin, Dudley. After all, Petunia herself was nothing like her sister.

She replaced the boy back in the basket and took out the note that had come with him. After going through it twice, she was glad for once that she was nothing like her sister. The boy had started making gurgling noises, as if reminding Petunia that he was there. She peeped into the basket and took one long look at him. Lily's beautiful green eyes stared back at her. Petunia had never wanted to associate herself with her freak of sister or her overly confident husband. Their family had been nothing but a disgrace to her and her _normal_ family. Vernon had never approved of them. But it seemed as if they had no choice now. Not with a horde of those _freaks_ watching over them. _Hmm,_ she would do as Dumbledore had asked her to. The boy would have a place to live and food to eat, nothing more, nothing less. Vernon was not going to be pleased with this new arrangement but it had to be done. She had no choice.


	5. Lightning

A/N- Written for the Can You Make It To The End Challenge round 1

I couldn't sleep. The storm raging outside the castle walls only added more tension to my already tingling nerves. Storms weren't unusual at this time of the year, but this one was much gloomier than it had any right to be. It seemed as if weather itself was adjusting to the darkness which reigned the whole world.

I descended downstairs from the girl's dormitory, into our common room. It was deserted so I had no luxury of a cozy fire. But I could not bother to light one. Instead, I drew up a chair to the windows and sat, the cold slowly seeping into my bones.

This year was not like any other I spent at Hogwarts. It was different in every way possible. It had to, considering now that the control of the school was in the hands of Death Eaters. Our parents did not want us to come to Hogwarts this year. They were frightened, as they had every right to be. Many of the Wizarding World was frightened, now that Dumbledore was gone. All their hopes were lost too. But those of us who believed in Harry, continued to fight on. That is why most of the members of the Dumbledore's Army returned to Hogwarts this year. Some did not have a choice, considering that they were Pure-bloods. Besides, neither Parvati nor I could simply stand the idea of wrapping ourselves warm while others fought a battle that was ours as much as theirs. And Hogwarts was a safe place as any nowadays. But that was proving to be wrong each day. The Carrows had no mercy when they punished us. They used us as an example to make others behave. It was getting harder each day to resist them.

I drew up my legs to my chin and rested my chin on my knees. Outside, the storm still raged on. Heavy drops of rain splattering against the windows. The sky was lit up by flashes of lightning. It was a beautiful display. Beautiful but deadly. Yet it somehow managed to calm my nerves and made me forget my troubles. I was brought back down to earth by the slightly dreamy voice of Luna whom I had not noticed until now.

"It looks beautiful, doesn't it?" she asked.

"Hmm. It does", I agreed with her. She sat down cross legged, by the foot of the chair.

"Wrackspurts like lightning too", her voice came yet again. She looked up at me. "They come out to watch it like we're doing now", her face lit up with a smile. I returned her smile.

"Don't worry Padma, everything will be fine", she squeezed my knee and continued to watch the lightning rippling through the sky.

That is why I loved Luna so much. Even when the rest of the world was against her, she never stopped believing. Her optimism never faltering to burn so bright that it was infectious.


End file.
